Memories Of The Great Tiger Battle
by death-in-the-orchard
Summary: Alexander Anderson and the vampire Alucard are ordered not to fight. Stuck in a kitchen together, Alucard recalls a past with Arthur Hellsing and Walter Dornez. Meant for humor.


Sigh. Dull crimson looked out beyond the veil of black bangs, surveying the surrounding environment without much interest before slowly gravitating back to a glaring figure that could not see the eyes because of the veil of bangs. A carefree bird twittered beyond the window, antagonizing both of the presences with its freedom and happiness. The crunching of cornflakes amused the vampire slightly when the sound rose to his ears.

"Cereal, Judas Priest? Is that what the Vatican feeds its Regenerator? _Corn flakes_?" The black bangs shifted to clear Alucard's vision as he spied the blue box of cereal sitting atop the white counter beside the bowl Alexander Anderson was eating from. Green flashed a deadly glower but the square jaws of the priest continued to chew before he swallowed, but by then the demon had spoken again, fueling the priest's loathing for the creature. "Does the tiger have some significance? Great, rather than good, as it says?"

"Shut up, Demon of Satan. You're lucky that I haven't already rid the world of your vile existence."

The growl was received by a smirk from the vampire that managed to frustrate the paladin even further. Father Anderson's hatred shredded his breakfast between his teeth when he filled his mouth with another spoonful of cereal. The happy bird flitting about from branch to branch outside the window pane reminded the two of their abandonment. Sir Integra and Enrico Maxwell were conversing at a table in the morning air, beneath the beneficial aid of a shading umbrella standing up from the center of a table. Alucard and Father Anderson had been ordered to remain indoors, the nosferatu's fledgling and the Hellsing butler attending to Integra's needs while the Iscariot nuns, Heinkel and Yumie, attended to Maxwell. The little brown bird outside the window could probably see the table and choose to watch from a distance or fly closer to hear what was being said while the priest and the vampire were not permitted to watch. Their 'behavior' the previous day had resulted with the current circumstances. The vacated orphanage served as their second meeting place after the previous location had been demolished because of overzealous operatives. The orphanage had been chosen because of its convenience while the orphans were away to visit the seaside, and because Father Anderson would be less willing to destroy the building or leave waste to its property, as had been the fate of the charred remains of a hotel that was being reimbursed by the Vatican's treasury with some contribution coming from the Hellsing vault.

Now the great vampire Alucard was sitting in a chair watching the priest sit on a stool eating cereal. Red strayed to the blue box once more, interest taking his mind when he found the tiger to be, other than cartoonish and absurd to look at, somehow sickeningly familiar, tilting his bloodless lips into a frown. "Are you eating a sugary cereal meant to stunt the growth of children, Judas Priest?"

A growl came and tight jaws struggled to finish chewing. Anderson swallowed with his brow knitted together to narrow his eyes. "I don't have any desire to speak with you, Vampire. As it is, I see very little in allowing heathen and demonic beings to desecrate this Holy, cultivating land meant to be trodden down my the feet of Catholic children. I should kill-"

Father Anderson's voice hitched in his throat, choking on raw malice and murderous intent with the sudden close proximity of the red and black figure that stood at the end of the counter, but his throat was loosened by a rumbling snarl when a white glove plucked up the blue box of cereal. Alucard held the box before his eyes, scrutinizing the obnoxious cartoon with a faint scowl of distaste. The distaste fled with the flare of pleasure that burned in his eyes when the sharp taste of a Holy blade singed the skin of his neck. Fangs smiled at the seething priest, red flicking to Anderson before settling on the box again. "I agree with your bayonet, Priest, but sadly we are not allowed to fill our beings with any meaning of fun today."

"Release the box, Demon."

While the handle of the bayonet cringed beneath the daunting grip of the paladin whose blunt teeth were bared in a scowl, the noseferatu's lips smiled, the tips of fangs peeking out between them to goad the Iscariot further, it seemed. "Why? Do you want to cleanse it with fire and Holy Water now that I've touched it? Patience, you will have your chance and I am sure I will enjoy whatever you will do to the box, Dear Enemy, but give me a moment. I need to identify the tiger's significance and the reason why I hate it, beyond its apparent worthlessness."

Father Anderson blankly watched the vampire as Alucard focused on the box, his eyes picking up on details, creasing his lips with a deeper frown. The bayonet gradually lowered and was put away by the priest whose confusion excused his lack of aggression. Meanwhile, his sugary cornflakes deteriorated into a soggy mass, matching the contour of the bowl. Red never blinked while green did occasionally in the space of a few empty seconds. Then Alucard's pupils froze upon a printed name on the tiger's bandanna, the black dilating with a rising memory that parted his lips and eased his features.

The vampire's fangs flashed with a grim smile and the box was held up a moment longer to receive the brunt of a cold red gaze. Then the cereal box was set on the counter beside the priest's forgotten bowl and the vampire returned to his chair with the paladin's eyes trailing him. Alucard sat in the chair he had claimed, hands smoothing out the armrests as a hum vibrated from his throat.

Anderson stared at him, beginning to frown with narrowing eyes. "Vampire…what did you do to the cereal? Did you put a spell on it? Curse it? Or is it some undiscovered bane for vampires?"

Amusement sparked in Alucard's gaze when it was directed at the priest, and fangs grew larger with the widening of the demon's smile. "Oh, I have recalled that I share a past with that certain Tony the Tiger… A very dark and unpleasant past indeed…hm." A low chuckle that road off a hum emptied Anderson's features, leaving him to receive the vampire's response without an expression, only the immediate assumption that the spawn of Satan was not in possession of a functioning mind. When his glasses gleamed with a change in the sun's rays outside, Father Anderson moved his head and turned on his stool to frown at the quieted demon.

"A past with a children's cereal advertisement character? Vampire, what deranged fantasy of bloodshed and sin do you live in where it would be necessary to corrode the purity of an innocent children's icon?"

"Oh, oh." A demonic chuckle flashed in the demon's eyes and light reflected off of his parted, grinning fangs, looking at the wall and memory instead of the priest who watched this in disturbed silence. Oh how Anderson hated this sick creature. Alucard smiled at him, as if reading the man's thoughts, causing Father Anderson's brow to furrow with a scowl. "It was a grand battle, though only my blood was spilled in the mansion that day. But it was glorious all the same."

Glasses caught a ray of sunlight between the paladin's confused blinks that decreased the intensity of his expression. "You fought a cereal box character at the Hellsing mansion? How mad are you, monster of Satan? To whatever extent, it has exceeded my presumption-"

"Oh, I did not battle a simple character, my dearest Priest." Alucard smirked at the loathing that weighed the paladin's features once again, but then the bright red orbs removed themselves from the priest to gaze upon the wall, the shadows around the demon seeming to darken. "It was a battle with my previous master and the Angel of Death."

Anderson stared, his features hard though he was quiet, listening to the demon, observing the pleasure on his dead face. "A mutiny?" He spoke with a contained voice though it did not seem to hold an attempt at hiding his distaste for the concept. Alucard's grin faltered, dipping into a short frown.

"No. It was a battle over the cereal made from corn and the Tiger named Tony."

Completely lost, Anderson could only bring himself to frown at the beast and resist piercing the filthy creature's heart with one of his blessed blades when the hateful fanged smile returned. Amusement and warmth were evident in the demon's voice as his ancient eyes grew distant, diving into memory. "It was a morning, for myself, the dawning of the moon rising over the treetops and the earthly mountains I could not see. It was at that time that young Walter would go to the pantry and fill his veins with sugar to ensure a sleepless night of excitement. Those were interesting times… But they were in a time my previous master wanted to alter. To say the least, Arthur Hellsing did not enjoy having a hyperactive Angel of Death tearing about his household."

…

…

White garments rested against the wall, an uneven scarf falling to the small figure's leg while the other end held onto its shoulder, fighting the inevitable force of gravity while red eyes ignored its plight completely as they watched the black vest and the vertical purple stripes emerge from the pantry with a familiar orange beast smiling back at the pale demon. Long black strands of lustrous hair rolled with a ripple of light when the boy strolled passed Alucard, the displacement of air shifting the vampire's hair. Alucard's eyes stalked the tiger, still fixed to the false creature when young Walter was sitting against a counter with a bowl filled with the sugar frosted flakes and cow's milk. Pale lips, given a shade of pink after the demon's meal, remained neutral while the first metal vessel carrying the corn flakes and milk, met the boy's lips and disappeared. When the spoon emerged, jaws were chewing and the spoon was vacant. The spoon dove into the cereal to bring more sustenance to the boy, again and again, filling and emptying. Alucard was quiet, waiting for the change he saw was already drawing near, the building of energy that would be expelled in a matter of hours, the hyperactive, sadistic Angel that would be the result. The lips twitched at the thoughts, eyes swirling with thick pleasure that made the fragments of demonic light in the red eyes turn slowly. So much fun to be had, so much-

But the look was torn away from the creature's face when his master appeared, startling the young butler when his bowl of cereal was ripped from his hands and the spoon was all that remained in Walter's possession. An empty spoon that no longer possessed any worth or purpose. Such a sad spoon it was that night, when it could not feed the boy but could only be thrust toward the Hellsing leader to direct the boy's indignity while the nosferatu in the background offered it no aid.

The spoon dropped after a moment to hang by Walter's side as his teeth assaulted the soft flesh of his inner cheek in frustration, watching as Arthur marched to the sink to dispel the contents of the bowl and then fill it with water. When blue eyes faced the boy, Walter's face was creased with anger.

"Sir. That was my _food_."

Arthur gave a dull look to the boy, offering him no solace in sympathy, only shame in the disappointment he was accused of earning, stated in the expression. Then the blonde man's attention went to the kitchen counter, to the box with the cartoon tiger smiling from it. Walter noticed, eyes gaping with sudden horror and rage. With Arthur Hellsing's first step towards the box, the Angel flew across the white tiles of the floor and then slid to the other side of the kitchen. In his hands was the box. Arthur, angered, gave a mild glare to the child and darkened the usually casual mirth from his features. He hand extended towards the butler while his voice deepened with the authority of his standing order.

"Walter. I told you to stop eating that crap. You can't handle sugar. You scare my wh- women." He cleared his throat, looking back at the glower and defensive outrage radiating as a dark miasma from his servant. The man's hand dipped, his finger jerking with impatience. "Surrender the box Walter."

A growl was the response, and the boy's lithe body lowered, prepared to flee or fight for what was the object of his joy. "Sir. Is there no other way?"

A cold gaze chilled the air and the man's mouth creased. "No."

Black bangs sifted before Walter's eyes while they lowered to the floor, his rage quieting. "Then that is too bad. For my love of this cereal, I will never let you take it from me!" The boy dashed from the room, evading a wild grab from Arthur who tried to stop him before Walter passed to reach the door. Then the boy was gone and the chase had commenced.

Such drama, the demon mused, melding into a wall to leave the kitchen without any occupants. He moved through walls and floors, arriving in a dark corridor when he followed the running boy, watching with glowing molten eyes, though his amusement had not yet reached the potential to make his lips smile. Much more would be required to allow that to happen.


End file.
